Vice
by abetterhuman
Summary: The first time I picked up a cigarette, it was raining.


The first time I picked up a cigarette, it was raining.

The only sound that could be heard was the water pounding firmly against the roof. I could not see it but I could feel the humidity, penetrating through walls, constricting around my body in a cold grip. It makes it hard to breathe. It's like jumping into a cold pool. It chills your body, freezes your lungs and leaves you ineffectively gasping for air. The difference is that with time, relief never comes.

The fireplace could not warm up my body regardless of the small distance between us. I needed heat, needed to rid myself of the sensation of drowning that came with every inhalation.

That was the first time I lit a cigarette and it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

I hated smoking. I hated that I needed to smoke just so that I could get through a storm when she wasn't here. I hated that I had become so dependent on it. I hated that it reminded me of morphling. And I hated that it forced me to lie and hide things from Katniss.

It never completely helped but it dull the senses just enough so that I could get through the storm. Just long enough for it to pass over or Katniss to return.

* * *

The first time she caught me, anger consumed her face.

My shaky and icy hands had unsuccessfully been trying to light the cigarette placed between my lips. A few attempts later I found myself voraciously inhaling, holding my breath until I could feel the smoke painfully burn my lungs. When I exhaled, it came out shaky and defeated.

It had been raining and she had gone hunting since the morning. Entrapped in my cycle I failed to hear her enter. It is only when the door slams shut, that I turn to face her from my position on the couch knowing that it's too late to get rid of the evidence.

She takes of her leather jacket and as she hangs it on the coat rack, she freezes. Sniffing the intoxicated air she turns to me. I make no move to cover it up. She hated all types of vices and I could tell she was about to scream at me. That is until she took sight of my trembling hands and her expression changed to concerned.

I hated that I could not control my body's reactions. I hated that I was weak. I hated that I could not face my fears. Ashamed, I shove my hands into my pockets and looked away.

She glances at the window and instantly makes the connection.

She moves towards me and I mentally prepare myself for the lecture that is to come but instead she plucks the cigarette from my lips and discards it. Cautiously sitting next to me, she pulls my hands out from my pockets and starts running patterns with tip of her thumbs over them. She does this until my hands stop shaking and no longer feel cold. And when I finally look at her I realize that I don't feel scared anymore.

It's not pity that she's displaying, its compassion. It's love.

She wraps her body around mine in a warm embrace and I relax. Grabbing a nearby blanket and she wraps it around our bodies creating a cocoon filled with body heat. I sigh as I place my head on her chest. Silencing all other sounds, I let the sound of her heart beat lull me to sleep.

* * *

When I wake later, it's to the sound of thunder. I jump, sitting up. Water and electricity screams perfect hell to me. I panic as I feel the familiar tightening in my chest.

I only notice that she has awakened when she wraps her arms around me and pulls me close to her.

"It's okay." She whispers in my ear and though it calms me a bit, my body still feels tense. I have a desire to run but this, I cannot escape.

"It's okay." She whispers again taking notice of the fear on my face.

She starts to place small kisses on my neck and that eventually relaxes me completely. She pushes me against the couch and lays her body on top of mine effectively trapping me.

"Look at me." And I do. I look at her eyes and I can finally breathe again. I feel safe again. Her body is my shield.

And she kisses me. Successfully igniting my body like no cigarette could. Her lips create an endless fire in me that only grows. And her hands seem to know just where to touch.

It's that moment that I realize that I don't need smoke. I don't need pills. I already have all the heat I need from her. It all came from the Girl on Fire.

She is my new vice and I'm okay with that.


End file.
